Don't Let Go
by Ginneke
Summary: NEVER is too easy a word to say. In a certain Ichimaru's case, it's the story of his life.
1. Chapter 1

**Don't Let Go**

Disclaimer: Bleach isn't mine! And nor are any characters used in this – an OC free zone!

Summary: 'Never' is too easy a word to say; in a certain Ichimaru's case, it's the story of his life.

Warning: Character death (I KILLED MATSUMOTO'S PINK SHAWL!)

-

Matsumoto Rangiku panted for breath, desperately trying to ease the choking sensation that washed over her every time that Aizen made use of his reiatsu. It really was too powerful for anyone below the rank of Taichou to successfully hold off… unless you were one of those outrageously strong Fukutaichou like the bright-haired girl who was currently fighting alongside her beloved 'Ken-chan', seemingly unaffected. Rangiku had been separated from her own taichou in the early stages of the battle, and every lull gazed in a panicked way around the battlefield, searching for the white-haired youth in amongst all the carnage, though she was not really allowed to call him a youth anymore…

Her usually pristine clothing was tattered and torn, the fabric barely covering her already exposed chest though she was too preoccupied with surviving to worry about anything as trivial as modesty; the pink shawl she usually wore lay in shreds a few feet away, the sorry victim of a particularly vicious enemy. Blood caked the fabric of her kimono, a deep gash in her left side. She knew she should really withdraw – all the odds were stacked against her, since she was weaker than the rest of those in this area of the battle – but she was going nowhere until she knew her taichou was safe. Loyalty came before everything – even sake, lazing around and sleeping on the job.

Suddenly, out of the corner of one eye, she saw a flash of silver. Turning to face whoever it was, her heart leapt in a aching, twisting motion when she saw their face. He was not smiling for once; his reddish-brown eyes were open and watching her with a pained look she knew matched her own.

"I-Ichimaru." Why, oh why did she have to stumble over his name like that?

"Rangiku-chan." The sound of her name on his lips… even though they were on opposite sides, she still loved the way the word spilled out as if he were savouring every last memory of each syllable. Yet she could see his eyes misting over slightly as they watched each other. "I'm sorry."

'…_Sorry?'_ She stared at him in confusion, then as he drew his zanpakuto she realised. Eyes wide with shock, she was barely able to react when he muttered, "Ikorosu, Shinsou." The tip of his blade sped towards her, slicing another gash in her sword arm deep enough to stop her from using the appendage; Haineko fell from her hand, clattering to the ground. Swiftly he appeared at her side and forced her down to the ground, lightly touching Shinsou to her throat, his other hand pinning her down – some part of her absently noticed that he was touching her in an entirely inappropriate place, causing equally improper thoughts running through her mind, a warm feeling spreading through her lower abdomen despite her immediate peril. With much effort she quashed the line of thinking and stuttered out, "I-Ichimaru, what…?"

"Listen, Rangiku. Stay still; hide your reiatsu." His voice was urgent, pleading; his eyes stared down into hers, desperately trying to make her understand. "Don't move until this is over or some of your friends get here, ya hear?"

She nodded in response, heart fluttering in her breast like a trapped bird desperate to break free of the cage around it. She was reluctant to speak, to give a verbal answer, for fear of drawing attention to them. With a sad smile Ichimaru Gin plunged his blade down into the corpse she was sprawled on top of; blood spurted everywhere, over him, over her pale throat, over Shinsou itself. She knew why he had done it – to give the impression that she was actually dead. At the same time she covered all traces of her reiatsu, obedient to the pleas of her lifetime friend; he stood and rushed away almost immediately, but not before a tear of remorse landed on one perfectly smooth cheek, trickling down to mingle with the blood beneath her. _'Always,'_ she thought sadly, _'you always go away without an answer, without telling me where you're going…'_

She really had no idea why she was trusting Gin so much. He had betrayed the Shinigami, abandoned her, and killed so many of his former companions. But – and her thoughts softened slightly – he had also saved her life three times now, not to mention befriend her, care for her, protect her…

She knew that she was taking the coward's choice, but Gin had told her to do this. Gin obviously had been told to exterminate her, but old feelings had got in the way. He was unable to bring himself to kill her. And so he had done this instead, saved her in the only way he could. Even so, it was hard for her to lie there and hear the screams and rasping, choked dying breaths of her companions. The clangs of steel on steel, the ripping of flesh, the snapping of bones and the horrible gushing sounds of blood splashing to the already blood-soaked soil made tears well up in her eyes and threaten to spill down her cheeks, though she was forced to hold them at bay – after all, a dead body was unable to shed tears. All the same, her heart wrenched every time she heard and felt a fellow shinigami be injured or be killed.

A harsh roar of fury escaped the lips of her taichou as he caught sight of her bloodied and battered body. She knew she held the honour of being one of the two women Hitsugaya Toshiro had ever cared about, the other being Hinamori Momo. She also knew that both of the younger shinigami had strong feelings for each other, but Hinamori was too innocent to make the first move and Hitsugaya, underneath his gruff exterior, was actually very shy. Especially when it came to the girl he loved…

Hinamori rushed to the older woman's side, placing small, gentle hands over her wounds in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding, while Hitsugaya fended off the attacking swarms that were threatening to overwhelm him. At a shouted order from the boy-captain… no, young man, she reminded herself, the girl slipped an arm underneath her fellow fukutaichou and sped away to where the healers from 4th Division were bustling around, shouting to one another and desperately trying to heal those whose lives were in immediate danger. Just as Rangiku was handed over to Hanatarou and two of his companions, she felt the more than familiar light-headedness wash over her and finally slipped into the dark world of the unconscious.

--

Gin felt the normal smile return to his features as Rangiku was taken away from the battlefield, as well as a feeling of relief. With her safely in the hands of 4th Division he knew he no longer had to worry about her well-being. All that was left for him to do was continue fighting until he died or emerged victorious – that was what Aizen had told him, anyway. In his mind he was already victorious, having prevented Rangiku from joining the ranks of the dead. No longer was he afraid of death; he was a new man in more ways than one, one of those being his acceptance of his love for the beautiful woman.

Tousen had already been captured, Komamura Sajin and Zaraki Kenpachi having finally put aside their differences and working together, a hyperactive Yachiru guarding their backs, her sword darting all over the place as she fended off multiple enemies, many of which were too startled by her sudden appearances to put up much resistance. Aizen, also, was perilously close to being overwhelmed – the ryouka/shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo had come back to aid the 13 Gotei (his friends, Sado, Inoue and Ishida, had also joined the battle, though due to the loss of his powers the latter was confined to aiding 4th Division in any way he could and Inoue was more suited to the job of healing), and was fighting alongside the commander of Seireitei himself and the twin blades of Kyouraku Shunsui.

"Ichimaru!"

He already knew whom the voice belonged to – it was only a matter of time before the youngest of the taichou realised who it was to have caused the cut on Rangiku's arm.

"Tell me, Hitsugaya-taichou, will Rangiku survive?"

The youth was momentarily taken aback at the seriousness of the former taichou's words, but soon overcame his surprise. "She'll live, no thanks to you!"

Hyourinmaru and Shinsou clashed, Hitsugaya immediately taking the offensive. Ichimaru was more than happy to defend though, knowing that this way he was more likely to prolong his existence and possibly see her again. Strange, how his train of thought always returned to her even when his life was in immediate danger…

He never noticed the raved-haired young girl standing off to the side, not until it was too late. He never recognised the kidou spell she was chanting until the restraining bolts of light appeared around him. He never realised that Abarai Renji was standing behind him until the hilt of his zanpakuto slammed into the base of his skull. He only knew there were too many 'never' s in his life.

Except never never happened. The raven-haired girl never completed her spell – it never even began because of the blade that slid into her chest from behind; the traitorous Aizen stood there, a smirk on his features as he drew the blade out and the girl collapsed to the ground. Abarai Renji never knocked Gin out using Zabimaru's hilt, nor did Hitsugaya continue to fight against him when the blow never came. Instead the pair roared with anger and charged at Hinamori's attacker, leaving Ichimaru standing alone amidst the carnage. His gaze turned to the girl slumped on the ground – for a fleeting moment he saw another form there. Rangiku, when he had first found her, had lain in a position exactly like this…

As soon as he was certain that Aizen was suitably distracted he moved over to the girl and scooped her up. Not even pausing to question his own consuming madness he headed towards the back lines of the Shinigami forces, receiving astounded stares from all those who caught even the tiniest glimpse of him out the corners of their eyes. He laid the bloody bundle on the ground, in full view of Unohana and her fukutaichou, flashed a quick grin, and then was off again. But not before catching a glimpse of Rangiku staring at him, a question forming on her lips – his only response was a cheeky wink. And then he was gone.

---

Once again Rangiku was close to panicking, but this time not out of loyalty and fright for her taichou. No, she had a new fear now, for the 'smiling madman' as he had been nicknamed amongst her fellow shinigami. Almost as soon as her friend Inoue had healed her wounds she was off, dashing through the melee that was the battle between Soul Society and the traitors. Her mind clamouring, Haineko only adding to her confused thoughts, she followed through the turmoil of fighting yet was too slow to catch up.

A Hollow leapt at her seemingly from nowhere; she sidestepped the clumsy lunge and swung Haineko down, cleaving straight through its white mask. As it faded into dust she spun, zanpakuto ripping into the shoulder of another about to kill one of her subordinates. As the limb thudded to the ground and the creature howled in pain, the other shinigami shattered the mask. As it too dissolved into nothing the young recruit turned to thank his commanding officer, but Rangiku was already running again, straight towards the heart of the conflict. Haineko's deadly dance cut down all those of the other side who dared to get in her way, flashes of sliver slashing out, only to retreat and take out another; as she burst through into the centre she stopped abruptly, breath catching in her throat.

"Hitsu…gaya-taichou?"

His haori was ripped and stained, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Next to him Renji was crouched, trying to stem the steady flow of crimson that splattered onto the soil from a deep slash over his chest. Aizen stood opposite them, pristine, seemingly invincible. His naked zanpakuto was clasped loosely in one hand, slick with an oily red sheen from all of those he had killed or wounded over the course of the war. Over the other side of the battlefield the other taichou were banded together in small groups, fending off masses of foes, depending on each other to guard their backs. And no aid could possibly come from them…

"Matsumoto! Get away!" She looked at him, then Aizen, then back at her taichou. His icy jade eyes met hers, looking down at her, an angry spark shining from them – not for the first time she wondered how anyone could think those eyes as frozen, as cold as the exterior he showed everyone.

"Gomen, Hitsugaya-taichou," eventually came her response, "but I can't."

He was about to yell at her again, she knew. Perhaps that was why she moved out to stand in front of Aizen. Perhaps that was why she shouted out, "Unare. Haineko!" She saw, even as the plumes of ash sped towards the traitor, his lips moving, and a dark spell about to be unleashed upon her. She had seen what it had done to Komamura, when he had tried to stand against Aizen over a year ago; she had seen the wounds that had been inflicted on him, and he was far more powerful than she… As the darkness began to wrap around her she heard a quiet, calm, almost mocking voice.

"Ikorosu, Shinsou."


	2. Chapter 2

**Don't Let Go**

Summary: 'Never' is too easy a word to say; in a certain Ichimaru's case, it's the story of his life.

-

"_Ikorosu, Shinsou."_

--

"Damn you, Ichimaru," muttered a young, white-haired man pacing back and forth outside the hospital ward, his zanpakuto still slung over his shoulder even though he was now tall enough to wear the blade at his hip instead – old habits died hard. "Damn you, you freak!"

"Shiro-kun, calm down." The man spun on his heel and met the steady, unflinching gaze of his girlfriend, as she sat on one of the few chairs available outside the operating chamber. She had seen the wound, the great stab wound in the centre of the older woman's chest, but still she tried to convince both herself and Hitsugaya that things would turn out to be okay. "Matsumoto-chan is strong, she'll pull through this. She's survived worse…"

"She loved him," Hitsugaya interrupted, jade eyes flickering towards the room once again. "None of us ever saw it before but she loved the bastard. And now she's like this, and where's he?"

"Keep your voice down. We're in a hospital, remember?"

He muttered something inaudible and sat down, glaring at the door in front of them. The battle was over – Soul Society had won and Aizen was dead – but the war was still only just beginning. Tousen was alive still, and was directing pre-planned assaults to keep the shinigami from finding their hideout until they had recovered enough to launch another attack like the last.

And Ichimaru. Just thinking of the name made his hands shake with rage. The silver-haired snake hadn't been seen since the battle, since the overwhelming crush of bodies that had surrounded him on all sides. His corpse hadn't been recovered but that made little difference – it meant that there was still a chance he was alive.

"What happened anyway? How did Aizen die?"

"Ask Abarai."

"Abarai-kun's resting."

"Then ask someone else. There were plenty who saw it happen."

"Shiro-kun…" Her eyes were pleading by now, and he knew that he was unable to resist whenever she was like this.

"Fine! I'll tell you!"

---DreamScape---

"_Ikorosu, Shinsou."_

Rangiku instinctively shut her eyes, hearing the slight shriek of Shinsou's blade come rushing away from the hilt – in her fear she had forgotten all about Ichimaru's orders to kill her, that now Aizen knew she was still alive he would have no choice but to follow the command… But then she realised that the pain was never coming, that there was no blood trickling down her chest, nor any wounds anywhere else on her body except the minor ones she had obtained on the way to the centre of the battle. Cautiously she opened both bluish-grey eyes, searching for a reason why the blow had never reached her. And at the same time the clamour of battle ceased as, one by one, all heads turned to face the centre of the battle, and…

"_You."_

_Ichimaru's grin never faded, not even as he looked at the man whose chest was now pierced through by Shinsou, the man who was now staring at him over his shoulder, an expression of disbelief clear on his features. Comprehension hit her – she had never been the target. Ichimaru had never aimed for her, never intended for the attack to come anywhere near her. _

"_Yup. Me." His voice was the same as ever, the same cheerful yet sometimes sinister tone that he always used. _

"_Why?" Aizen demanded, though now he was dying the coarse demand was weakened, more like a plea than what it was supposed to be. The betrayer betrayed._

"_Ya really think I'd let ya hurt Rangiku-chan?" She froze, her gaze flickering between Aizen and Ichimaru, heart pounding, head spinning. _'He did it… for me?'

_Shinsou retracted, causing a sudden bright spurt of blood to erupt from the centre of Aizen's chest, a sickening, ripping sound coming as the blade was wrenched out, severing flesh, shearing bone in two; with a nauseating gargle a mixture of gore and bile and body fluids splashed down to the dampened soil. The stricken man slumped to the ground, his blood running to mingle with the blood of those he had slain. Those from Soul Society stood in stunned silence, watching with something bordering on morbid fascination, or possibly relief, or shock. Not one of them was expecting this sort of outcome. _

_As his reiatsu flickered and died, though, a roar rose from amongst the ranked masses of Hollows and, dotted amongst them, the Arrancar; as one they charged at Ichimaru, clamouring for blood to be repaid. Tousen suddenly burst free from the restraining spells cast on him, and before the shinigami standing guard over him could react Suzimushi was out and slicing through their bodies, cleaving some in two, impaling others through their hearts, slashing across the throats of others. His skin and clothing smattered with blood he then was forced to hold off the renewed assaults from his once-friend Komamura and the 'demon' Zaraki, both of whom seemed oblivious to their own wounds and pain, only desire being to stop the bloodbath before Soul Society gained any prolonged damage. Even Zaraki was aware of the importance of this battle, and for once was not trying to fight for the sake of fighting but for all those he 'cared' about, mostly Yachiru and various other members of his division but there were, of course, those from other divisions who he had mild affection for, even though he would never admit to it._

_A sickening ripping sound, a rough cry of pain, and the mob of Hollows and Arrancar parted slightly. Rangiku caught sight of Ichimaru down on one knee in the centre of the ring, panting for breath, bright crimson staining his once-white haori and pooling around his feet. She screamed; Ichimaru glanced in her direction, eyes open… and he smiled, just as the mob closed in, a haunting, sorrowful smile so full of meaning, unlike all of the others he had sent her way._

"_GIN!"_

----

Ise Nanao moved through the library quietly, never disturbing the other shinigami loitering there as she stepped past them. Glasses flashed as her head reached out to pull a heavy book from one of the shelves, and as she carried it to a table she noticed that another, smaller book had been hurriedly stuffed inside it. With an angry hiss about people who didn't respect books anymore she took it out and was about to set it down on the table when something about it caught her eye.

The book was simply bound, without any embellishments or embossments on the cover, not even a word to say what it was, and that was what was interesting; intrigued she opened it up to the first page and let out a half-choked gasp. She knew that handwriting anywhere – that slightly slanted script that she had read so many times on paperwork sent through her office…

'**Please, whoever finds this, read and know before it's too late.'**

"Ichimaru," she whispered, sitting down in shock as she stared at the page before her. She must've been sat like that for a while, for it was a long time past midnight when Kira, sent to look for her, found her sitting in the same position. No amount of persuading could get her to move, and when it became obvious he glanced down at the book clutched in the other fukutaichou's trembling hands. From behind the blond hair that hung in front of his face his eyes widened in shock and recognition, and he had to grip the back of a chair to keep from falling over.

'We… we have to take this to Yamamoto-taichou at once,' was the single thought that ran through their minds at exactly the same moment.

"Get the other taichou and fukutaichou, all those who aren't too badly injured," Nanao snapped as she rose from her shock-induced stupor. "Tell them that it's urgent, and that we have to meet as quickly as possible!"

Kira nodded and hurried away, leaving Nanao alone in the centre of the room. The fukutaichou drew in a long deep breath to steel herself; her eyes turned cold and calculating as she assumed the mask her rank demanded of her; and as she released the breath she was unaware of even holding she turned the page to delve into whatever secrets the smiling madman had left behind.

-----

Yr 1: January 13th

'E's up to no good. I knew that as soon as I saw 'im, that Aizen. 'E's plannin' somethin', somethin' bad. Somethin' that will probably endanger us all, but no one else seems ta realise. Not even Rangiku-chan, though she hasn't really met 'im yet.

Why can't they see? What will it take to show 'em that somethin's wrong here?

------

Yr 1: January 20th

It appears that 'e's keeping 'imself – the true 'im – concealed by 'ypnotising everyone else in Soul Society. Everyone – including Yamamoto-sama 'imself! 'E's keeping the true power of his zanpakuto hidden, claiming it's merely an illusionary-based shikai. It is, but not in the way 'e suggests.

I still don't know what 'e's up to – in order to find out I'll 'ave to get on the inside, but that means I may be forced into betraying Soul Society…

-------

Yr 1: February 4th

There are two people resistant to 'is 'ypnotising – Tousen and me. Well, I say I'm resistant – it's only a matter of time before I'll be under 'is spell as well. As long as I can avoid that, though, I'll be able to work against 'im from the inside out.

Since I've graduated from the academy I'll have more of a chance now. Especially since I'm in 'is bantai – who knows, if I play the part well enough I may gain 'is trust and be able to find out more easily.

--------

Yr 1: February 14th

Not a progress report as such, just that Rangiku-chan may be thinkin' somethin's wrong. I've 'ardly been able to speak to her these last few weeks; I've been so caught up with this.

When this is over I'll try and make it up to her. At the moment, though, if Aizen doesn't find out about us she'll be safe. I'll make sure of that even if it costs me my life.

_­_---------

Yr 2: April 30th

Working my way through the ranks – almost at a seat now. If I can gain 'is trust then 'e'll be more likely to trust me with 'is secrets. That's what I'm 'oping – if I can get them then I can try and work against 'im…

­­­----------

Yr 4: September 25th

Kaien's dead. 'e was one of the others suspecting – an' now 'e's gone, jus' like that. Hollow attack, but I'll be damned if that were a normal Hollow. It were something stinkin' of Aizen, it was.

Let's sort out the facts – at approx. 3am last night various members of 13-Bantai were called out on a Hollow alert within Soul Society. Warning no 1 – Hollows can't usually enter without inside help.

Leading shinigami was Kaien's wife – Warning no 2, since if something happened to her then Kaien would likely react without thinkin' things through.

She was the only survivor of the attack – Warning 3. No Hollow encountered 'as ever been strong enough to wipe out a whole group of trained and trusted shinigami like that.

It turns out that there was no trace of the Hollow left after the attack, yet there was a lingering 'Soul Residue', as I call it – no one else seems to feel it. Suggested that the Hollow weren't dead, just hiding. Then, at approx. midnight the next day, Kaien's wife attacked and killed several shinigami standing guard over her, before escaping into the nearby forest. A pursuit lead to the discovery of her robes and zanpakuto left on the ground, and the Hollow nearby.

Kaien attacked without thinkin' – almost as soon as 'e touched the Hollow's tentacles 'is zanpakuto was gone and the Hollow took control of 'im. Eventually Kaien regained a small amount of control and impaled himself on that Kuchiki Rukia's zanpakuto, killing 'imself an' the Hollow.

Worries me, it does. A Hollow that can turn a shinigami into a monster like it with a single touch. Is this what Aizen wants, to build an army o' these things? Or am I readin' the signs wrong, an' this has nothin' to do with Aizen? Could it be there are more traitors than I realised?

Thin's are gonna be 'arder from 'ere on.

­-----------

Yr 5: June 22nd

Been promoted to taichou of 3-Bantai. Don't know whether it's a blessin' or a curse – I'm further 'way from Aizen now, bu' can't keep as close an eye on 'im. There has to be some way I can warn the other taichous of his intentions, but I ain't sure how. S'unlikely they'll believe me…

But that young recruit – the one named Hitsugaya. 'E's a smart one – 'e may be able to figure it out if I leave the right clues for 'im to follow.

------------

Yr 10: March 18th

There's a cloud across my vision – I made the mistake of opening my eyes and seein' the world clearly. 'Cause Aizen were waitin' for the chance – his hypnotisin' ways are all but controllin' me. Damn me for my foolishness – I've no way o' knowin' if 'e'll use me in 'is plans now, no idea if I'll be yet another unwilling pawn.

I can't go on seein' Rangiku-chan, not if I want ter keep her safe from 'is gaze. Damnit, she's probably in danger 'lready cause of my involvin' Hitsugaya in this game – e's her taichou now.

Damn my stupidity.

-------------

Yr 13: July 27th

Blood! Stainin' everythin', th' walls… Shinsou, me, Aizen… even the crimson scarlet sunset mocks me for my part in this evil, red as blood… Damn him! 'e's made 'is move an' I can't stop 'im – can't even stop meself from the mindless slaughter. All dead – all 46 of 'em. These hands, these bloodstained, hangman's hands…

Started. No turnin' back – I gotta break myself free an' tell 'em. I'll be punished for my part in it all, both 'ere an' in me next life, bu' I can't let 'im get away with this…

­--------------

Yr 13: August 13th

I know wha' they say 'bout the 13th bein' unlucky – they're right as well. Hinamori an' Hitsugaya, they're close ter dead. Soul Society's in chaos, an' all over Aizen, Tousen… an' me. I can barely cling ter meself, barely keep in control long enough ter write this, but I have ter. S'the only way ter let 'em know.

Aizen's weakness – 'e's overconfident in 'is own abilities. If someone can distract 'im while someone else gets b'hind 'e's good as dead.

If I die before I can resolve this then I 'ope whoever finds this can succeed where I 'ave failed.

Ichimaru,

Taichou of 3-Bantai.

---------------

Seconds, minutes, hours, days… Rangiku had lost all sense of time and direction, was unsure if she was awake or dreaming or if she was even alive…

"How is she?"

The voice was unmistakeably male, a rough yet worried tone sounding from near where she lay. It was oddly familiar, yet she couldn't quite place a name to the speaker…

"She's doing as well as can be expected in this situation…"

Slowly Rangiku opened her eyes to a white room in a building she had no memory of entering. Panicked she tried to sit up but two hands went to her shoulders and held her down. Her sight focussed; she saw the wild and unruly mop of snow-white hair and jade eyes of her taichou staring down at her with a concerned expression.

"Hi-Hitsugaya-taichou… Where am I?"

"In 4th division's headquarters. Now rest, Matsumoto – you need to get your strength back."

"Where's Gin?" she whispered quietly, desperately. She sounded like a lost child asking where her parents were – without him she _was_ a lost child, even though on the outside she was a grown woman. "Hitsugaya-taichou, where's Gin?"

There was a flicker of sympathy in Hitsugaya's eyes as he looked down at his fukutaichou. She seemed frail, somehow lost. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what was missing, and didn't want to break it to her that Ichimaru was gone. Forever.

But perhaps his eyes betrayed him, for hers widened in shock and disbelief. "Iie…" she whispered. "Iie, it… it can't be…" She forced his hands away, sitting up and running to the door. Opening it to come face to face with Unohana she grabbed hold of one of the woman's sleeves and in an almost pleading voice burst out, "Please tell me it's not true, Unohana-taichou! Please! He can't be gone! He can't!"

The older woman's eyes only told her the same thing. "…I'm sorry, Matsumoto," she said, a sorrowful undercurrent in her voice. Rangiku released her sleeve and took a few step backwards, gaze flickering from one to the other before she broke down in hysterical tears. She felt Unohana's motherly arms wrap around her and pull her close, stroking her hair in a comforting manner. "Hitsugaya-taichou, it may be best if you leave for now."

He nodded and left, closing the door behind him, and Rangiku, no longer afraid of embarrassing herself in front of her taichou, let out all the sorrow and heartache and fear and betrayal she had been feeling for all of the past year in a torrent of tears. Desperately she put her own arms around the elder woman, not wanting to be left alone.

But everything screamed his name at her –when she was ill and still stubbornly trying to sit up he had pinned her down much as Hitsugaya had; too many times to count he had comforted her in this manner as she woke from a nightmare or saw him get hurt. Unohana-taichou was helping as best she could, but she just wasn't Ichimaru. As the bitter realisation set in she sobbed harder.

She was afraid of being alone more than anything.

She was alone now.

---------------

I'm sorry for neglecting this! I've practically rewritten the entire chapter _five_ times now, and this is the only version that gives any semblance of justice to my ideas. Yes, I know I'm worse than Kakashi when it comes to excuses, which is why I'm not bothering to try and cover up for my errors.

There will be one more part after this, and Gin's fate will be revealed, as will the reason behind Matsumoto's wound.

Once again, sorry! DWA, over and out (and ready to crack down on writing within...the next three yea-months?)


	3. Chapter 3

**Don't Let Go**

Summary: 'Never' is too easy a word to say; in a certain Ichimaru's case, it's the story of his life.

-

A body lies stretched out in the dust. A man who appears to be in his late twenties, Haku thinks, but for all the blood he cannot tell. He is wearing a yukata that had once been white, though now it is streaked with grey-brown dust and encrusted with drying gore. At his waist is an empty sheath. The dark-haired child glances around warily for any sign of a sword. There is none. Haku guesses that whoever attacked the man took it as a trophy.

But no bandit he had come across has ever left wounds like the one on the man's leg… It was as if an abnormally large dog had worried at the man's leg until the flesh hung in tatters. Had the boy eaten recently, he would've been forced to empty the contents of his stomach at the grisly sight. As it is, he swallows nervously and edges closer.

Is the man still alive? He thinks so, but isn't certain.

--

For once, Ise Nanao was neglecting the pile of paperwork in front of her in favour of staring blankly at nothing. Her dark eyes glazed over, slightly reddened by the sleepless night before, the fukutaicho absently toyed with a pen while mulling over what she had found. Idly she found herself wondering how Matsumoto-san was faring, and if she was anywhere near recovery from her wounds.

She shoved her glasses back to rest on the bridge of her nose and pulled a piece of paper towards her, attempting to lose herself in the tedium of writing and filing reports. It was a way of coping with the stresses of everyday life. The guilt Gin's diary had left her with was a millstone around her neck, and it felt like she was standing on the top of a precariously high tower where one false move could send her plummeting into the unknown.

"Where are you now… Ichimaru…"

Her voice was a low murmur, soon lost in the steady thrum of life outside the office, but the memory of the words still hung heavily on the air.

--

The man stirs weakly at the feeling of a small hand against his sweat-stained brow and opens one weary eye. Pain ripples through his battered and broken body with every movement he makes, no matter how slight. The figure kneeling over him is a child: dark-haired, wide-eyed, pale from the shock of finding a man so badly wounded out in the middle of nowhere.

"Who…?" he croaks past dry and chapped lips, finishing silently when his voice will not allow it _…are you?_

"Here." The young boy kneels beside him, lifting the wounded man's head into his lap, and nudges a roughly carved beaker to his mouth. "Drink. You need water."

The irony of the situation astounds him. Somewhere, in the darkened days of the past, he remembers a time like this… A young girl sprawled in the dust; a younger him offering food that she desperately needed…

He's almost forgotten how good water tastes.

---

It hadn't rained over Soul Society in years, Unohana Retsu thought wryly as she stared out into the deserted courtyard of 4-Bantai headquarters; when she commented as such to the imposing figure beside her he grunted in dismissal and said, "S'only rain. Nothin' special."

The wind was cold around them, chilled by the rain that fell in an eternal torrent. Unohana suppressed a shudder and turned to her fellow captain, a question she had been pondering for a while on the tip of her tongue. "Zaraki-taicho, why have you decided to… _grace_ my division with your presence today?"

"Che. Yachiru wanted ta see that Matsumoto wom'n, wouldn't take no fer an answer." A bell chimed softly as he shifted position, his hand coming to rest on the hilt of his zanpakuto, and he glared sullenly at a sodden Hanataro who was staggering across the courtyard with a pile of bloodied bandages. The timid shinigami stumbled slightly and hurried a little faster towards his destination, not really wanting to feel the full pressure of the taicho's reiatsu.

"Normally you aren't so concerned when your fukutaichou runs off…"

"Dammit wom'n, why do I hafta tell yer anythin'!" he exploded; seconds later a pink head of hair protruded from around the corner and said, "Ken-chan shouldn't yell in a place of wounded people! It's bad manners, Pachinko-Head said so."

Unohana stifled a laugh at the indignant expression on Zaraki's face. "And Ikkaku-san is right," she said once her mood had sobered, agreeing with the pink-haired girl. "There are people here who are suffering severe mental trauma from the battle. Loud noises can set the healing process back considerably," she directed a pointed gaze in the heavy-set shinigami's direction.

He grunted something in response and turned his head away to stare back out at the rain. Yachiru disappeared back round the door again, leaving the two adults alone.

It hadn't rained in Soul Society in a long, long time; and Unohana could remember only one occasion when it had snowed.

---

"Do you have any family?"

"I used to," Haku replies simply, staring into a basin of water with a forlorn expression. "At least, I think I did. Most people have, don't they?"

"You… think you did?" Silver-head seems startled by that admission. Haku can hear it, even through the peculiar accent.

"I don't remember much." Small thin fingers snake over the surface. He loves watching the ripples, the lines where reflection and reality blur. "Maybe I don't want to remember…"

He does remember, but doesn't know how to explain that his father murdered his mother and then him, just because they had a power considered the brand of a demon.

----

Matsumoto Rangiku stared blankly at the ceiling. Yachiru was gone now, leaving her alone. The sky outside matched her mood: overcast, sorrowful, bleak. In her hands, she clasped a cool metal locket, the one she usually kept hidden by her uniform. It had been a gift from Ichimaru, the last he had given her – he had brought it back from the human world with him, probably against orders. 'So you'll remember me when 'm gone, Ran-chan,' he'd said. Her fingers ran over the metal, feeling the engraved pattern of a lily. Wasn't that meant to be a death-flower? She knew it by heart, didn't need to look at it.

"Was this what you meant, Gin?" she murmured aloud. "Did you know what was going to happen?"

There was no reply. She had hardly expected one. No body had been recovered, but it was commonly believed that there was none to be found. He had been ripped apart, the whisperers said, and his corpse scattered across the battlefield. Shinsou had been recovered, snapped in two, at the place where the tide had overwhelmed him. And Ichimaru would never, _never_ leave his sword behind. A shinigami could not be parted from his zanpakuto for long, else the blade would weaken and its wielder be drained of his reiatsu.

Still one small part of her avoided the terrible likelihood, desperate to believe that he was still alive – somehow – and free from Tousen's grasp. She slid her fingers into the groove of the locket, snapping it open easily, and it was with a heavy heart that she fingered the small twist of silver and strawberry-blonde hair contained inside.

She barely noticed when exhaustion forced her into unconsciousness once more.

_A figure lifted a hand to the jagged slash that left his left arm limp and useless. Trying and failing to stem the gush of blood. White, grinning faces around him hungry for more, more blood, more pain, and with a growl of anger he lifted the broken blade and held it in front of him. There was a flash of strawberry-blonde hair somewhere outside the circle, and her voice was screaming, trying to get him to answer. An answering roar rose from the outskirts of the circle, as one of the Hollows rushed her, and he lashed out with the broken blade, ripping, tearing, watching with grim satisfaction as the Hollows dispersed into fine dust that scattered across the battlefield, but his fox-like grin faltered at the pain that greeted sharp claws raking across his back. The mob parted slightly, and their eyes met; even as Tousen appeared behind her and slid his sword through the woman's ribs, she never took her eyes off him. _

_Ichimaru yowled in primal fury and tried to batter his way through the mass of Hollows, desperate to reach her side, hating himself for getting her involved in the battle. He never reached her, as the tide crashed over him once more, and the bleeding woman stared at him still, her eyes pleading, her lips moving still despite the numbing cold that was slowly creeping over her._

_He couldn't make out what she was saying._

_And then she was gone, and there was only searing agony, and he screamed out against the world, against his mistakes, against everything that had separated them, even as his broken blade hacked and slashed at the mob that threatened to separate them for forever, and his voice carried out over the shrieks and slavering grunts of the Hollows._

"_Ran-"_

_And then his cry of anger stopped._

_The broken sword fell._

"Gin!" she screamed, jerking into wakefulness, and her hand instinctively grasped at the air before her. Footsteps sounded against the floorboards outside as she pushed herself upright, staring around in wide-eyed shock, trying to discern the figure she _knew_ she had seen from the shadows cloaking the corners. Tears welled up in her eyes, trickling down her cheeks like liquid diamonds. She clutched at the locket as if it was burning her, but she could not bear to let go. To let go would be to let _him _go...

----

"Nii-san, do _you _have any family?" Echoing the very question Haku was asked six weeks before. The boy is curious, and a little worried that he might lose his sole precious person.

His 'brother' puts the steaming tea, product of a recent foray into Rukongai, aside. Ghost pale hands knot over folded knees. Gin's ever-present smile is bittersweet, like the tranquillity of a lake disturbed by a casually tossed pebble.

"Dead," he says simply. "Lived here for a time – stayed here after they left me. But I weren't never alone." The smile slips away. His mood turns sombre. "I always had Ran-chan."

Silver-head refuses to say anything more on the topic. The wounds are too raw, too recent.

In silence he lifts the tea to his lips once again.

------

"He's not coming back. Not this time."

"I know."

Izuru Kira sighed forlornly and stared into the bottom of his cup. The last drop of sake glistened like a freshly shed tear.

"But it still hurts."

-------

Three months after he found Silver-head in the wilderness, Gin is able to walk from the hut where he once lived to the outskirts of the nearest sector of Rukongai (he thinks it's the 75th), without need of breaks or assistance from Haku. His limp is noticeable, however, and he has to lean heavily on a bamboo cane to steady himself. Weeks of inaction have left his muscles feeble. By his own admission, Silver-head is as useless as 'a day old cub. Or Yumichika.'

Haku doesn't quite believe his brother, especially after he witnesses Gin taking down a group of armed bandits, using only the bamboo cane, with a quickness and a ruthless efficiency that leaves onlookers gaping like fish out of water.

But his senses are still dull, and Gin doesn't see the sixth. Haku leaps into the fray, an unfamiliar weapon in his right hand, something cold enough to make his fingers almost freeze around it. When he parries the clumsy slash he knows why. In his hand is a knife, a knife that is pure ice. Before his disbelieving eyes, the part of his brain that is just as calm and detached as Gin is in combat muttering that he has to disarm this guy, one half melts and snakes around the sword. The ribbon of water seeps into gashes and cracks in the pitted surface –

_(he should've taken better care of it)_

– and at a silently spoken command freezes again. The sword shatters.

Shards of metal form a strangely beautiful rain.

Silver-head's cane thuds dully into the base of his skull. The bandit topples…

"Stunned," Gin announces in a too-happy voice, "not killed, but they'll be botherin' you no more." No-one wants to argue with that fox-like grin, those eyes narrowed to slits that laugh in even the gravest of circumstances. They are wary, scared perhaps, of the smiling invalid who took down a gang renowned for their viciousness, without any outward sign of difficulty.

He soon establishes an unwanted reputation. After all, the Smiling Fox will keep them safe.

The crowd do not see Gin collapse the second he is out of sight.

-----

Kira felt someone grab his wrist as he made his way to the Third's compound one morning. "Izuru-san, I think you should see this," said Shuuhei. His face was without any trace of a smile.

"It's to do with Ichimaru."

Kira let himself be towed away. For a moment he thought of the paperwork waiting for him in patient piles, and hoped his third seat would make a start on it, but that distraction lasted barely five seconds.

He was somewhat apprehensive of what he might see.

------

"Nii-san?"

"Hmm?"

_Smash._ A flurry of glistening rainbows. Gin mutters something inaudible as he stares at the sheet of ice Haku created, perpetually narrowed eyes scanning the surface to see how much damage his strikes have caused. He seems disappointed by the shallow grooves – he is nowhere near full strength, but part of him puts that down to his long separation from Shinsou.

_I really need to retrieve him._

"Were you a shinigami?" Haku asks while Gin strikes at the ice again.

This time it shatters. A hail of icy splinters dance to earth. Gin shoulders the wakizashi, stolen from a dead man's corpse, and leans heavily on his bamboo cane. These efforts drain him far too quickly.

"What makes ya say that, Haku-kun?"

The smile has faltered.

He knows he guessed right.

-------

"I thought you said…"

An interruption. "That's Shinsou."

A spluttering of disbelief. "Shinsou is a wakizashi, not a … a … whatever that zanpakuto is."

A sigh. "It's a sakabato, I think. A sword with the blade reversed. To kill with one, the wielder has to remember to turn the sword over…"

"Look, Kurosaki-kun, a zanpakuto doesn't just- just _change_! They may differ with each incarnation of the same soul, but not like this!"

"Actually, Kira-san, there have been," _cough,_ "cases in the past…"

"…only two were confirmed, however the evidence remains. In addition to the version of a zanpakuto's development that you have already pointed out, some zanpakuto have been known to change their natures, should the shinigami they are bonded with undergo a similar change of heart."

"And both of those zanpakuto are in this very room."

"Ours."

"The first and only dual bladed zanpakuto Soul Society has seen."

"They changed when we realised that our original fighting style wouldn't work if we were separated-"

"-But a sakabato! That goes against Ichimaru's nature, doesn't it?"

"Not if he's decided he doesn't want to kill again."

------

Gin does not believe in blindly hoping. That is why the part of his brain still insisting that Rangiku is alive confuses him so much.

Haku thinks that since Silver-head never actually saw 'Ran-chan's' dead body, he cannot know that she is dead.

Gin finds this logic slightly comforting, but it isn't enough.

-------

Fed up of all the rumours and speculation that circulated Seireitei, particularly among the unseated shinigami, one anonymous author compiled the three most accepted theories and published them in _Seireitei Communication_. From here, somebody equally unknown decided to paste this list on the door of the Third's compound. It attracted daily attention and perhaps the only reason why so many knew of the list's existence was because of its newfound publicity.

**Theory 1 – Ichimaru Gin died in the battle and all claims to the contrary are a vain attempt to rationalise the slim possibility of the traitor-turned-ally is, in fact alive.**

**Theory 2 – Ichimaru Gin has completed one of the shortest cycles between Soul Society and the Living side known to shinigami, hence Shinsou's alleged reaction.**

**Theory 3 – Ichimaru Gin is alive and within Soul Society.**

Below this, in Ise Nanao's handwriting, fluttered a second piece of paper: **no doubt through severe breaches of Soul Society regulations or heavy usage of Shunpo, which would cause severe injury to the shinigami. Even if this speculation is indeed correct, we will be unlikely to know for some time, as an injured fox is predisposed to 'going to ground'.**

Matsumoto stared at the list – most specifically the third theory – with a faint stirring of hope. Behind her, Renji was struggling not to laugh at Nanao's comments until finally he could not resist the urge to add… well, something!

"Hey, Matsumoto, can you hold this for a second?"

Her gaze fell on him, curious. "Why?"

"Cause… y'know … c'mon, if Ise-san can get away with it then so can I!"

Somewhere during this exchange she had ended up holding his paperwork as well as her own. He pulled a thick black marker from inside his robes and snatched one of the documents (a bill for his former division's efforts in breaking out of the fourth), scrawling over it enthusiastically. He pinned the paper to the doorframe, gave it an admiring once-over, and re-capped his trusty marker. He waved it at her in explanation. "Ikkaku and me got these when we were on the Living side. They're good for graffiti – there's a few places around Karakura with our… 'tagusu', I think Ichigo called 'em. 'S where we kept vanishing off to."

His addition to the slowly increasing number of comments on the wall read:

**Rule 49 of the Shinigami Code of Conduct indicates quite clearly that if a shinigami finds their life is in immediate and otherwise unavoidable danger, he or she is permitted to utilise shunpo to escape. This includes to the Living side, Hueco Mundo (if all other routes are blocked) and the outermost regions of Soul Society.**

**And who actually thinks through all the rules if you need to get away, fast? (Answers from the Eleventh will be immediately discounted.)**

"Renji…?"

"The humans have a saying for this, Matsumoto. 'Let's get out of here before the shit hits the pan.' Or is it fan? Anyway, I doubt we should stick around."

-------

The wakizashi feels wrong. It's roughly the same length as Shinsou, so it shouldn't be too far off what he's used to, but Gin feels uncomfortable with it in his hand.

Three days later, he realises why. A sword is a tool for killing. But he is tired of killing, tired of the bloodstains that he still sees on his hangman's hands, tired of the crimson sunsets that mock his choices and decisions.

Yes, he got rid of Aizen in the end, but at what cost?

It's only the third time Haku has seen him without the smile.

--------

The sun felt a little warmer with the conviction that Gin was alive, the air clearer, her heart lighter. And she felt that she knew where he was now. She should have realised sooner. If he had survived, there _was_ only one place he would go.

Hueco Mundo would be like a deathtrap waiting to spring.

The Living side was too difficult to reach by shunpo.

That left only the outskirts of Soul Society.

She remembered – as she always had, as she always would – those precious years when it had been just the two of them against the world. The place they had called home back then was the first sanctuary either had known. Gin would go _there_. She _knew_ he would.

-

_Kira ripped another sheet of paper from the wall. After the first few pages, and Renji's idiotic challenge, they had flooded in from all over Seireitei. Even the Eleventh. Especially the Eleventh. _

_(All seemed convinced that if you'd allowed yourself to get that far out of your depth, you should at least go down fighting.)_

_But First had shouted at Kuchiki-san for '__**letting his fukutaicho run amok'**__; and Kuchiki-san had informed him, very coldly, that as acting head of the Third he should be responsible for maintaining their headquarters – not allowing it to descend into such as state in the first place, Kira supposed the Sixth's taicho meant._

_-_

Rangiku folded her uniform neatly and placed it on her undisturbed futon. In the centre of the black robes nestled her armband, below it, a folded piece of paper addressed to Hitsugaya. Haineko rested grumpily in a corner. Rangiku didn't have the heart to disturb her zanpakuto.

She wore a faded blue kimono with a pale yellow sash. The hilt of a tanto peeked from under the yellow; she felt uncomfortable with the thought of going unarmed. Her feet were bare. She wanted to blend in with Rukongai, not stand out like the proverbial sore thumb. Shoes were nothing short of a luxury for many. Rangiku remembered all too well the blistering dirt beneath her feet, a constant aggravation when walking for miles without cease. Where she was going, night was the best time to travel. She had learnt that lesson the hard way.

After a moment's deliberation she decided to leave the locket around her neck. To a would-be robber it was of little worth save sentimental, nor could it distinguish her as a Shinigami. The locket could stay.

Then, without so much as a backwards glance, she set off for the life she had left behind so long ago.

Once again, she followed.

-

_Kira glanced at the outer wall with a sudden sense that something - anything - was about to happen._

_Something momentous._

_Something he had been waiting for while not even knowing it._

_His footsteps were hurried and faltering on the stone. His body flickered with shunpo as he pushed himself to go faster, following the urge that resounded through every fibre of his being. His zanpakuto hummed lightly at his waist, a guardian._

_Once again, he trusted._

-

Gin stares up at the night sky. It is quiet. The world is slumbering. So should he, but something about tonight makes him want to savour this silence for as long as it will last.

Haku murmurs in his sleep and curls in on himself. Absently Gin pulls the blanket over the child's shoulders. The gesture reminds him of Rangiku. It is the kind of action she made in the past, when he dozed fitfully in the darkness of their home. She hated to see him distressed, even when neither knew its cause. When it came to him, she was always so selfless.

When he was with her, none of his crimes mattered. Maybe that is why he loves her.

Gin misses her, but cannot leave to seek her out. He cannot make Rangiku a target again.

Once again, he regrets.

---------

**_The world turns, and nothing remains the same._**

* * *

FINALLY!

This was supposed to be the end. I may leave it like this, I may do another little snippet, but it depends on what the readers want.

Meh. If I have any readers after this. My talents of procastination are astounding. I am worse than Matsumoto with paperwork.

Happy 2009, everyone - only thirty minutes late...


End file.
